Need, Not Want
by Vecturist
Summary: Carson's a little more familiar with withdrawal than Rodney realizes. Tag to The Hive


Need, Not Want

Disclaimer: None of the characters belong to me, yadda, yadda, yadda

Spoilers/Setting: Season 2, Intruder, The Hive

A/N: New episodes in the States. Yeah! As I'm sure many people also are, I was curious about Carson's comments to Rodney about withdrawal, as well as one insult in particular. This is my version.

Although part of him scolded that he was no better than the junkies languishing downstairs in the ER, a larger, more insistent part screamed he wanted, no needed another dose. With trembling hands, Carson Beckett, second year resident at the most prestigious hospital in Scotland, reached for the bottle of Demerol and a syringe. _Just once more_, he told himself. He hadn't intended this _addiction_, but there was so much at stake. The pressure to be perfect, to be the best, to be chief resident at the best hospital in the country. If he could succeed here, he had a ticket to work anywhere in the UK, perhaps even the States. Part of him knew it was wrong, the use of painkillers and stimulants to focus and be at the top of his game, to put in the hours required. He'd always known he was talented, he'd always been the best, but now he was competing against those who were equally as good, if not better than him. He needed an _edge_. He appreciated the focus, the lucidity, the calmness the drugs provided him during the 48 and 72 hour shifts. He was the one the nurses called upon, when a crisis arose. He _needed_ this.

"Beckett," A thick brogue behind him. Startled, he almost dropped the syringe and turned around to see Dr. Cairney scowling at him. "What's this," he demanded eyes lighting on the contents of Carson's hand.

"Mrs. Malcolm in 402 was complaining about pain," he lied smoothly, the well-practiced words rolling off his tongue. It had worked before with one of the nurses, but Carson could see the senior physician wasn't buying it.

"Beckett, you're a very promising resident, one of the best…but," the man's words trailed off. "This may not be the best place for you." The two men exchanged glances. Carson knew if he were reported this could end his career, all his dreams. "Clean yourself up, resident and get back to work." Carson let out a deep breath as the other man left the lock-up. He'd been found out, but his future was in his hands. He had to quit, now. He dropped the syringe into the sharps container like a hot ember, although part of him was still screaming for the taste. _Just once more_.

Carson had heard plenty of stories about the horrors of withdrawal. Hell was too polite a term. All he could do was shake and sweat through the next few days. _It was the flu_, he lied. When had he gotten so good at lying? Until the drugs, it was something he'd never done much of. He finished the rest of his residency without incidence, stifling feelings of jealousy when his closest rival made chief resident. _It should have been him_. The again, he could have been dismissed in shame. He did his internship at a small clinic, choosing to focus on molecular biology and genetics. He knew if tried for something more competitive, Dr. Cairney would have had a word with the head. End of story. Not surprisingly, he was good in his new field, but he still hungered for the excitement of what could have been. When he was having a bad day, he tormented himself with these thoughts, what he he'd thrown away.

A few more research positions and publications followed, and then the US military came calling. He couldn't say no. He wondered how much they knew. Probably everything. He wondered why they wanted him. Years of settling for second and third-best had eroded some of his self-confidence, further depleted when he learned his next posting would be Antarctica. The discovery that he possessed the rare Ancient gene cheered him some, until he realized how little control he had. He was further shamed by an upstart flyboy cum taxi driver who had no idea what he'd stumbled into.

Two years later he was surprised to still be here, in Atlantis of all places. The mythical lost city. This certainly beat Chief Surgeon at the best hospital in Scotland. Even when they'd re-established contact with earth, Elizabeth still wanted him to be her CMO, despite the pages of people more qualified than him. The self-confidence climbed a little bit. Listening to Rodney's rants now, he could sympathize, even as the physicist insulted the infirmary in Altantis with more than his usual venom.

"You have no idea what I'm going through," gasped Rodney as he started the long, slow recovery.

"Oh, I have a wee inkling," he replied, realizing he could finally let go of the past. He wanted to, no needed to, for his friends here.


End file.
